The Problem of Food

Feng Chen lowered his head and clenched his fists.

The instant his ten fingers curled shut, the muscles in his arms erupted.

Veins faintly surfaced along his forearms, while his biceps swelled into a curve they had never possessed before.

His shoulders, too, had broadened by a full circle.

The entire outline of his upper body had become far sturdier than before.

"Is this the benefit of cultivation?"

A smile bloomed across Feng Chen's face, but the next moment, a stomach-churning wave of hunger surged up from within him, twisting that smile into a wry one.

Cultivation was good and all, but he still needed to replenish his energy.

He sank his mind deep into his Sea of Consciousness and looked at the glowing attribute panel.

Rapid Mastery

Host: Feng Chen

Cultivation Method: Tiger Fist (Minor Mastery 40/100)

Realm: None

Skills: Archery (Perfection), Basic Fist Technique (Perfection), Low-Level Hunting Skill (Perfection), Basic Blade Technique (Beginner 15/100), Basic Movement Technique (Perfection), Basic Medicine (Not Learned 0/100), Eat, Drink, and Be Merry (Perfection)...

His gaze swept over the panel.

He saw that it now had two additional entries compared to before: Cultivation Method and Realm.

Tiger Fist had already reached forty percent of the Minor Mastery Realm. In less than half a day of training since that afternoon, he had gone from a complete outsider to nearly halfway through Minor Mastery.

If an ordinary person studied the manual on their own, they might not even touch the threshold of Minor Mastery after several years of practice.

Feng Chen dismissed the panel and stepped out of the room.

The moment he reached the doorway of the other room, the rich scent of meat rushed into his nose.

The fragrance was thick and hearty, drifting over from the kitchen. It made his already ravenous stomach rumble twice more.

Lin Qing'er had already prepared dinner.

She was carrying a plate of stir-fried wild vegetables to the table. When she saw Feng Chen come out, her eyes immediately lit up. "Husband, you're here. Dinner's almost ready."

She turned and went back to the stove to bring out more dishes, chattering as she worked. "This afternoon, I went into the mountains and luckily found a place with lots of wild vegetables. It was hidden beside a small stream, blocked by a few short trees. No one else has probably found it yet."

"I picked quite a lot and left some over there too, so I can go pick more tomorrow. Look, Husband, these wild vegetables are so tender that juice comes out with just a pinch."

Feng Chen sat down at the table.

Three dishes and a soup were spread across the tabletop: a bowl of stewed wild chicken, made by re-stewing the half chicken left over from noon with fresh wild vegetables, a thin layer of oil floating on the soup; a plate of stir-fried wild vegetables, their leaves emerald green and fragrant with fried minced garlic; a plate of pickled radish strips Aunt Li had sent over a few days ago.

There was also a bowl of coarse rice, its grains plump and full.

Compared with the two bowls of watery wild-vegetable porridge and rock-hard cornbread from before, this meal was as different as heaven and earth.

"You worked hard, Qing'er."

Feng Chen looked at her sparkling eyes and said it, then changed the subject. "But you won't need to gather wild vegetables anymore. I'll make time to hunt."

Now that his archery had reached Perfection, taking down a few prey animals would not be a problem.

"It's all right, Husband. I want to contribute to the family too." Lin Qing'er handed Feng Chen his bowl and chopsticks, then sat across from him and served herself a bowl of rice as well.

Feng Chen smiled and said nothing more.

The two ate together.

As he ate, Feng Chen began to feel that something was wrong.

He had already wolfed down his bowl of coarse rice. Lin Qing'er gave him another bowl, and he finished that in just a few bites as well.

Two large, solid bowls of coarse rice went into his stomach. Normally, he would have been so full he was burping, yet his stomach still felt hollow. Not only had the hunger not faded, it seemed as though those two bowls had only whetted an even greater appetite.

He reached out for more dishes. The food fell into his stomach like it had dropped into a bottomless pit, without even making a sound.

"Husband, why has your appetite become so big?" Lin Qing'er paused her chopsticks and looked at him in surprise.

She had already cooked nearly half a pot more rice than usual and made an extra dish, yet Feng Chen was still far from satisfied.

Feng Chen rubbed his stomach, which let out a faint growl beneath his palm.

It was probably because he had begun cultivating a proper martial arts method.

With his current training intensity and speed, merely eating a few bowls of rice was nowhere near enough.

"Qing'er, go make some more dinner." Feng Chen set his empty bowl on the table and smiled helplessly.

If he continued cultivating without eating his fill, he felt he would be worn to death.

Lin Qing'er did not ask further. She immediately set down her chopsticks, rose to her feet, and said, "Understood, Husband. I'll go cook right away."

Then she hurried into the kitchen.

Feng Chen followed her in to help add firewood and tend the flames. The firelight from the stove shone over their faces, flickering bright and dim.

Half an hour later, another pot of rice was ready.

Feng Chen ate two more large bowls in a row and swept the remaining dishes from the table clean. Only then was his stomach finally full, and the hunger that had tormented him since the afternoon slowly receded.

He leaned back against his chair and let out a breath.

Lin Qing'er looked at the empty plates and the spotless rice pot. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, then finally said, "Husband, it looks like I still need to gather more wild vegetables."

There was a faint worry in her voice.

At the rate Husband ate, that sack of coarse grain would not last many days.

Feng Chen saw her concern. He sat upright and reached out to pat her head. "Don't worry. I'll find a way to deal with the food."

Lin Qing'er still looked somewhat troubled, but she said nothing more.

It was not that she did not trust her husband. But for someone running a household, watching the rice jar sink lower and lower would inevitably make her panic.

Still, she had seen how hard her husband had been working lately. Yesterday, he practiced archery all afternoon, then practiced fist techniques until dawn in the middle of the night. Today, he had trained for an entire afternoon again. She had never seen such seriousness from him before.

It was only understandable that he ate more.

After dinner, the two cleaned up and washed the dishes, wiped down the stove, put away the bowls and plates, then carried their chairs into the courtyard and sat down to chat.

The evening breeze blew in from the distant mountains, carrying the distinctive scent of grass and trees from the forest. It brushed over their faces, cool and refreshing.

Feng Chen leaned back in his chair and looked up at the sky overhead.

Lin Qing'er sat beside him, softly talking about little matters in the village—whose chicken had run away, whose field had been plowed. She chattered on and on, her voice light as a hummed song.

After resting for a while, the sky darkened.

Stars emerged across the heavens one after another. At first, only the brightest few appeared, then more and more, densely carpeting the entire sky overhead.

Feng Chen rose and walked into the middle of the courtyard, tilting his head back to look at the night sky.

The night sky of this world was somewhat similar to the one from his previous life, yet on closer inspection, it was also somewhat different.

The stars overhead were extraordinarily bright, each one hanging there in perfect clarity, their light cold and pure.

And there was the moon, absurdly large, nearly the size of a millstone. Its rimmed craters were visible to the naked eye, and its bright moonlight poured down, bathing the entire courtyard in silver-white.

Then was the land beneath his feet a planet? Or did it possess some other form?

A few vague thoughts flashed through Feng Chen's mind. He pondered them for a while but could not make sense of them, so he simply stopped thinking about it.

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Lin Qing'er beside him.

Moonlight fell upon her new clothes, dyeing the pale blue silver-gray. "Qing'er, I'm going to continue practicing martial arts."

"All right, Husband."

Lin Qing'er sat in her chair with both hands supporting her chin, smiling as she nodded.

Her eyes sparkled brightly beneath the moonlight.

Feng Chen turned and walked into the other room, lighting an oil lamp and setting it at the corner of the table.

After the flame flickered a few times, it stood steadily within the lamp, casting out a dim yellow halo.

He stood in the middle of the room, spread his feet apart, circled his hands, and assumed Tiger Stance once more.

He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, and sensed the qi and blood within his body.

His muscles began to swell, blood pulsed rhythmically through his veins, and a stream of heat slowly rose from his Dantian, traveling up his spine before spreading through his limbs and bones.

Ding! Tiger Fist proficiency increased by one.

Half an hour later.

Ding! Detected that the host is earnestly cultivating Tiger Fist. Destiny Talent trait A Thousand Miles a Day has activated.

The corners of Feng Chen's lips lifted slightly.

A Thousand Miles a Day had activated. His cultivation progress at night would be faster than it had been in the afternoon.

Green Mountain Village, the home of village chief Liu Dagang.

This was the largest residence in the village, with blue-brick walls, tiled roofs, and smooth stone slabs laid across the courtyard.

Several oil lamps were lit in the main hall, illuminating the entire room brightly.

Liu Dagang sat in a grandmaster's chair, holding a cup of tea. Yet his brows were faintly furrowed.

He was in his fifties, broad-boned, and the flesh on his face had begun to sag with age. But his eyes still gleamed with the shrewd calculation of his prime.

He set down his teacup, glanced toward the doorway, and asked the woman beside him, who was sewing shoe soles, "Why hasn't that brat Tiger come back yet? I only told him to go to town and buy some things. He left in the morning. He should have returned by this hour."

The woman looked up and smiled. "He was probably delayed on the road."

"Besides, Little Two and Little Three went with him. The three of them are together, so nothing will happen."

"Maybe he found somewhere to drink and fool around again. You know what he's like."